A month later I discovered her identity. I think some kind of circus was in town or something, I'm not sure, but the staff was working full time to cater to the aristocrats’ every need that night. We’d barely had a moment to ourselves in at least three weeks. It got to the point where the head maid didn't bother reprimanding us when we snuck off to catch our breath behind one of the tents. Looking back on it though, I almost regret wandering away; if I hadn't left, maybe I wouldn't have found out.

I'd gotten pretty good at miraculously disappearing and reappearing without anyone noticing, so I went out to explore. Whatever show was in town happened to be open to both the royal families and the wealthy middle class, and while the townspeople certainly didn't carry years of dirt in the weave of their clothes, nor did they bear the tan or the muscles to suggest a life of hard labor, I felt a little less alone in their presence.

The festival took place out in the courtyard. Vendors set up a maze of stalls, starting at the front gates, and eventually leading to the gardens where the performers did their show. Servants shuffled about offering drinks and snacks, all of them doing their best to hide their exhaustion.

It was loud and chaotic, and I often found myself being shoved around or shouted at, but it was probably the best time I'd had since I came to the castle. I stole a drink, swiped some pastry, and hid myself in the crowd. Maybe it was the anonymity, but I wasn't as on edge. For the first time in a long time, I couldn't feel the pressure of my responsibilities; I didn't feel out of place. I could breathe.

But that didn't last long. I caught sight of the king. He sat there, smiling widely, eyes trained on the girl to his left.

And by “the girl,” I mean the  girl. I didn't know her name yet, so you don't get to either. And I realize my actions were overly dramatic and almost entirely uncalled for, but let me remind you that I'm an undead teen who was ripped from everything she loved. So yeah. Deal.

Anyway, when I saw her, my world froze. I watched from the other side of the garden, realization setting in much too late. 

She was sitting next to the king. In a throne of her own. With a crown on her head. Shooting confident smiles at the well-dressed men parading in front of her. Laughing with the man on the throne beside her. Because she was the princess.

My jaw fell slack, eyes widening. She wasn't just some rich noble--this was a cruel twist of fate. All my childlike fantasies of happy endings and peaceful days tore in two at that word. Princess.

I was struck in the face once again with the harsh reality that was my life--undeath. Someday I'll learn how to refer to... Whatever it is I do instead of dying. 

You'd think I would have learned not to hope. You'd think I would have learned to cast away the romantic idealist inside me when that witch of an old woman tore me from everything I ever loved. You'd think I'd take a deep breath and get over my little crush on the pretty royal. You'd think wrong.

I tore through the carefully clipped grass, weaving around stalls and people without pausing to apologize when I ran into someone. I was painfully aware of the hole where my heart belonged, the lack of a beat in my chest. It wasn't there, so why did it hurt?

Princess.

Running through the back door to the servants’ entrance, I began to slow, if only to make sure and avoid anything and everything with a pulse.

Princess.

I couldn't stop the panic, even while I knew it was completely unjustified. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other. I doubt she considered my existence anything more than that of a castle rat.

Princess. The word rang in my head like some kind of mantra.

I slammed the door to my quarters.

Of course you're the princess, I thought in defeat, cursing my vampiric agility when my attempt at an uncoordinated flail looked more like a dance. Of. Course.